The Argosy, December 1905 — page 138: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

116 The man moistened his lips and groaned aloud. “T ought to know, sir. I made it my- self!” “And sent it to me?” “And sent it to you! ” The ex-architect whistled aloud in the excess of his amazement. He had never seen the man in his life before. What could he have against him? Was this some other enemy of the true Alvin—some one who had sworn vengeance against him in his former days—or was 1t—— Duncan whistled again. The man was watching him almost indifferently, apparently limp from relief at his suc- cess. If he had, as he said, manufactured and sent the devilish engine, why on earth was he there? “Took here,’ Duncan said slowly, “you admit that you’re responsible for this cheerful device. Apparently, you are crazy. What guarantee have I that yow're not going to try._some new form of the same thing while you are sitting there? ” The man sat up wearily. “You have no guarantee at all, sir, save that of my own assurance. ‘The only dynamite in this room lies there on the table—the stick I removed from the box. Take it if you wish.” “T—don’t think I care to, thank you.” The other shrugged his shoulders and rose to his feet. “T am ready, Mr. Alvin.” “ Ready for what? ” “The police.” Duncan stared at the man. He seemed absolutely indifferent to the conse- quences of his act. “So you expect to be arrested? ” The other laughed bitterly. “| believe there is a penalty for try- ing to murder a man, is there not? I’m ready to pay it.” “And you came here with the cer- tainty either of being blown to bits yourself or of facing a term behind the bars ? ” “-F did.” There was something very curious THE ARGOSY. about the whole Duncan thought. A crank or a criminal would have been waiting expectantly a block or two away for the awful crash. A maniac, in all probability, would have been else- where. This man was certainly not insane, in the accepted sense of the word. A strong suspicion was growing in Dun- can’s mind. He walked to a chair and seated himself. “Sit down, my friend.” “You are—not going to send for the police?” The other faced him with astonished eyes. “A little later, perhaps. I trust you don’t mind some slight delay in being locked up?” Duncan smiled whimsi- cally. “Tt isn’t that, but ~ “Then take a chair for a few min- utes.” The man obeyed and his stolid expres- sion returned. Freedom or incarceration appeared to interest him little enough. Duncan studied him for several min- utes in meditative silence. Then he asked rather suddenly: “You don’t consider yourself in- sane ? ” “T am perfectly aware that I am not.” “Then, whatever possessed you to do such a thing—to attempt the murder of a man who never even saw you before, far less attempted to injure you? ” For a moment or two the other did not reply, and he seemed to be thinking hard. When he leaned forward, it was to speak earnestly: “Mr. Alvin, you and your people are at the head of the International Iron Company.” “Does that carry a death penalty with it?” “Yow ’re the head of a combine which has thrown hundreds of good men out of work and starved innocent children and —and—and eo Duncan suddenly laughed aloud. “My dear man, that’s all a lie, you know! ” “But the International ve visitor reddened. “Tm not talking about the Interna- business, The GomiGcbaooks (©